On the Edge of the Abyss: The Outcasts: A Shared Life, A Shared Love
by tavingtonsbeauty
Summary: Adam looked back at the life that had brought him this far. The rejection by his "father" and society, the many murders in his wake, and the pursuit of his creator through the harsh north. He still longed to be part of something. In the small town of Onati, he meets the survivor of a horrible attack on her family. Soon he discovers there is more to her than meets the eye.
1. Prologue - His name was Adam

Outcasts: A Shared Life, A Shared Love

Chapter 1 – Prologue – His Name was Adam

"_Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster... for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you."_ _Friedrich Nietzsche _

There was little to stir the air in the forest. It was heady with the thick scent of the leaves that had fallen to the forest floor. The scent had an odd allure to it, smelling of autumn and heralding the call of winter to come.

Adam's large bare feet made a distinctive crunch as he walked further into the forest wearily. He pulled his jacket closer about his body. Once, the chill would not have bothered him. He had traveled for miles, years ago across the tundra and arctic wastes, leading his father into the oblivion that was the polar regions of the world. Now, that was a distant memory, and he was grateful.

He stepped to a large oak tree in the middle of the forest. The air was still. There were no bird calls or any noise.

A lone tombstone was there, lit by the broken sunlight between the leaves above. A very solitary place indeed, but it seemed to fit the owner, at least as far as Adam was concerned.

He reached out a great hand and gently wiped the debris and leaves from the top of the top. He squatted down and replaced the candle in its red glass holder and struck a match, igniting it, making the air briefly smell of sulfur before he tipped it to light the candle.

He then straightened the red glass returned to the candle, walling in the flame. He watched it a moment, passing his hand over the flame a moment, feeling the heat.

"How are you father?" He asked softly, regarding the marker. He stooped and used his finger to clean the inscription carved into the stone.

_Victor Frankenstein_

_b. 1793 d. 1820_

_Aged: 27 years_

_Scientist, husband, _

_father, brother,_

_GENIUS_

_May he know love in _

_death more than_

_he did in life. _

"I really wish you could have known love the way I have come to know it. I loved you, in my fashion, and I think you loved me in yours, though it was an alien feeling to you. You never understood compassion or caring." He sighed. "Do you remember when you were hell-bent to destroy me?" Adam smiled a little.

However, Adam soon tired of the game and turned south. It was on this merry chase that he had come to the Basque country. He knew Frankenstein yet lived, but he had stopped in Geneva, the birth place of Frankenstein, and then Ingolstadt where he laid a small rose on the grave of Elizabeth to the horror of Frankenstein who could not understand why the Creature felt remorse.

Frankenstein had remained at the grave, weeping, as Adam left him, their confrontation over for now. He moved quickly by night, moving south until he found more mountains in the form of the Pyrenees. Having been "born" in Switzerland, mountains and cold air had an appeal to them he could not describe.

Adam had continued to read and then he found a woman. Not a deformed, wretched creature as he was, but a beautiful girl, whom he helped bury her family who had been murdered before he arrived. It had been a few days for they smelled of rot, but the deserved to be laid to rest, and so the Creature had buried the dead, much to her gratitude.

The girl had puzzled him and had come with him. It was then he started to realize what love was. While he had loved his father and been rejected, the beautiful little angel whom walked at his side neither feared nor hated him. She was a puzzle and he grew to like her as they made their home outside another small town. The like turned to love as the girl found work at a bakery, allowing them to have a daily supply of day old bread, fresh churned butter, and cheese from the baker's wife.

The money she had made allowed them to repair their home, slowly. Adam was good with his hands and he took pride in the work he was doing, building shelter for his young mate whom was an angel on earth as far as he cared.

They had had their own trials and eventually married, again to his surprise that she would allow him near her. She did care for him. She had done something, no one had bothered to do before, known the man, not the shell that held it. She loved listening to him read to her by candlelight after she worked. She had to rise early, but came home in the early afternoon with her bounty, which always made him smile.

The villagers cared for her and assisted in small ways, sending her home with small beer and wine to drink since the water was traitorous at the best of times. So they had come to be accepted by all, though the villagers were leery of his grotesqueness, his wife, they accepted freely, even with her own deformity, and they did all they could for her.

His beautiful angel. He smiled a little. She had been his bridge to become more human.

Victor had told him he would never have a place in society, never have a mate, and never be free. It was all lies for Adam was now all those things.

Adam looked up from his moment of solitude. He had heard a twig snap and he turned to face whomever had come upon him his eyes narrowed at being disturbed from his reverie, but then his look softened and he cocked his head to the side.

"Come then." He said softly. "I have someone I want you to meet."


	2. Come Scientist, Destroy!

**On the Edge of the Abyss: The Outcasts: A Shared Life, A Shared Love**

Chapter 2 – Come Scientist, Destroy!

_"Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves." Confucius_

Nine Years Ago…

The Creature, for he had no name, trotted along an ice sheet. He had turned south from the pole, finding he did not like seeing the bleak of the ice, snow, and hellishly cold wind that drove the snow so much it could blind a person. He had fashioned a mask with thin slits as he had seen the native people wearing. He had also stolen a seal skinned garment.

Though he felt the chill less than his pursuer, he well knew that if he did not find shelter soon, the limited sun would drop down and the temperature would drop below zero, freezing skin instantly with the wind chill.

He looked behind him, Frankenstein was still walking behind him, moving as though, if he were to stop, he would stop moving all together. Hatred drove the man, which confounded the Creature who only sought the love that he felt he should have as the "son" of this man, his creation, whose intelligence and skills would make any father proud, surely.

The sun ducked behind the nearby mountain and the Creature moved to make a snow cave for himself. Frankenstein didn't seem to notice as he continued to move. The Creature watched him curiously. The man moved onwards, at his slow pace, not stopping.

So it had been the last week, but the Creature's count. Frankenstein had not stopped to rest. His body would force him soon and the Creature hoped he was nearby when that happened so he could make sure the fool survived the journey. The Creature planned to go back to Switzerland and leave Frankenstein among his people. The man was not long for this world if he continued so and though it was hard for Frankenstein to understand, his Creature did care about his welfare, despite it all; the broken promises, the malice, and the driving hatred, that like the snow that now blew about them was unending and unyielding.

The snow abated by the next morning. The Creature stirred and moved, punching a hole in his snow cave and trudging out into the crisp air. It was cold yet even as the light had not come over the mountains. Everything was fresh and new. The sky was lightening by the moment. The fresh powder was glistening in the new day dawning light like thousands of crystals. It was beautiful and the Creature took it in for a few moments.

He then walked, spending most of the morning walking until he came upon Frankenstein's sled. He looked up and then moved about it looking for his creator. The man surely had made shelter as the night grew so cold that even the Creature had felt the chill.

He found him. Frankenstein was sleeping. The Creature touched his throat gently and could feel the steady heartbeat as he lay on the lee side of the sled. His eyes opened, looking up at the Creature who was squatting beside him with seal meat for him. He narrowed his eyes, but took the meat anyway, chewing the frozen strips that offered a good amount of protein and fat content.

Frankenstein watched as the Creature squatted nearby eating some of the meat himself. He then shifted and groaned as his muscles did not wish to obey due to stiffness and exertion.

The Creature smiled and rose to his feet. "Up…Up! It's morning. Come Scien-tist! Come destroy me! Fight on!" He said looking down at his creator as the light of the new day warmed his back.

Frankenstein lifted his body upwards. He was cold. Frostbite was setting into his cheeks, nose, and feet, and yet he had to press onwards. He glared up at the Creature as he straightened, defiantly, pulling himself upright on his feet. He had a full beard now that was wild and unkempt.

"Good boy!" The Creature smiled moving as his own joints cracked as the seal fur covered man started to move, commanding his sore, cold body to move forward, inch by inch, closer to the Creature to destroy the miserable life he had created. The Creature moved ahead of his creator, walking on the snow, his large feet left large footprints in the snow, which Frankenstein avoided as he pulled his sled along.

For weeks the pair had moved so, mile after mile, but then the Creature became tired of the game. He turned south, going through the low passes of the Urals, down through Prussia, to Saxony, to Bavaria, to the Alps, until at last he stood on the shores of the lake in Switzerland he knew well. It nearing sunset and Lake Geneva was beautiful.

Frankenstein stood a few meters away, looking at the lake and town in which he had been born. He lowered his cowl, looking at the sunset, turning the lake from blue to molten gold. It was beautiful. Why had he every left?

The Creature smiled. He knew that Frankenstein would no longer follow him. He needed rest. Contrary to what the scientist thought, the Creature did care for his welfare. He moved away as some villagers took notice of the man by the lakeshore, watching mutely, moved to tears at the beauty of what had been home before his mother had died of scarlet fever.

The Creature smiled. Perhaps he was not free and could now live as he wanted to, at least in part. He would never be part of society, but perhaps he could make a difference, even on the outskirts. Help others has he had DeLacey's son and beautiful daughter-in-law. He had moved many stones from the field so they could plant. They had been very thankful until they saw him. Society may never accept him, but perhaps he could be good and be spoken about like they had, as a good creature of the woods. Perhaps that would be enough.

He sighed.

He was so lonely. No one understood him. The only person who had tried had been Elizabeth, the wife of Frankenstein, whom the Creature had spoken with and surprised her with his intelligence and he had moved her with his plight. She had spoken to him as another human not as an object, but he had broken his promise to her, to do her no harm, raping and killing her in revenge for Frankenstein killing and butchering his own mate after promising his creation that he would allow him a chance at happiness.

The Creature regretted killing Elizabeth. He had become a man that night, feeling her fearful writhing body beneath him as she tried to make him stop, even as he pressed himself into her, taking what Frankenstein had not, her maidenhead, though in violence, something he still had tears, even now over. She had not deserved to be treated so and Frankenstein did not deserve her kind heart. Frankenstein had come and watched in horror, unable to stop it even as she cried out and reached for him. The Creature and nuzzled her after, trying to comfort her, but then he had seen the look on Frankenstein's face and knew he had won.

The Creature had snapped her neck, killing her instantly, not wanting the horrid man to have something so pure, innocent, and beautiful of body and mind. He had tried to pull her clothing back caressing her hair as though she were a child, a loving gesture. He then wanted Frankenstein to kill him.

Even then Frankenstein could not bring himself to kill his creation and the Creature had escaped. The Creature had a similar problem. He could not bring himself to kill Frankenstein as much as he wished to in his heart. Frankenstein was his father and he loved him, in his own fashion, though he longed to be free of him as well.

The Creature continued leaving Frankenstein to do as he willed, the villagers leading him away to the place of his birth. The others would look after him and make sure he rested and had food and drink. He had lost much weight and become gaunt, skin hanging on bones from his once handsome features, in the months the Creature and he had had their merry dance around the pole.

The Creature had hunted seals and learned from the natives how to use the oil for light and for heat at night as well as the meat to eat. He even shared with Frankenstein whose food stores had long run out and he had been too weak to hunt on his own.

The Creature now traveled through France finding the French worse than the Swiss in their disgust of him if they saw him. He continued into the next mountain range and into Spain. There he found green fields, beautiful country homes, and a slightly warmer climate than he had experienced in months. He was able to keep from view and yet watch the people go about their daily lives. They were charming, sweet, and seemed to be about community.

He listened at night to the people in their homes. These were the Basque people of the hills. They were also looked down upon as he was by the Spanish and the French as he watched soldiers harassing Basque men and women as they went about their lives in the villages. Perhaps these people would accept him when no others would.

He was so lonely and longed for a kind word. Just a companion, male or female to talk and discuss the books he had in his satchel, the air, nature, or even just cause him to smile once in his life time. A soft kind word in his direction would make him feel whole. Oh, how he longed to be something, anything within society. A mater was farfetched now that Frankenstein had burned his journal with all its secrets that had been the key to the life after death that the Creature was. He would never be handsome to look upon, covered in sutures and bruising, but perhaps someone would realize his utility in strength or better still, his mind.

He sighed and moved off as the lights from the house dimmed as candles were put out. He had been watching and listening. The mother and father had been busy trying for another child to add to their brood as they rocked together crying out in pleasure. It was fascinating for the Creature who watched from the window. The man would start by kissing her and she would then yield to his advance. Soon clothing was removed and the man kissed his wife everywhere. That would lead to other activities. The wife was more than willing, unlike Elizabeth. Then after their interesting noises they would calm and speak softly, looking at each other in a way that the Creature longed for.

That was love.

True love. Something he wanted to know and have.

For now the Creature was again alone in the night. He walked into the woods. He sighed and relaxed as he moved under a tree, a favorite spot he had discovered. He could recline well in it and sleep in the warm air. Perhaps it was his lot to be alone.

His fate.

However, he could shape fate and he meant to.


	3. Life among the Dead

On the Edge of the Abyss: The Outcasts: A Shared Life, A Shared Love

Chapter 3 – Life among the Dead

_"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars." Kahlil Gibran_

The Creature had learned things from the Basque people whom he lived among now. He kept to the outskirts of the village, but the people seemed to regard him or rather his deeds, as a gift from God. He had caught and dressed hares for an elderly widow whom he had seen gathering firewood in the forest. She was old, gnarled, and blind and moved about with slow purpose. She had caught him hanging the hares on the door knocker, touching his arm, she had told him to return. When he did the next day, she fed him hearty hare stew and freshly baked bread with butter. He refused to come into her home, but he took the clay earthenware bowl in his hands. The bread was so delicious and melted in his mouth with the melted butter. The stew was full of root vegetables and hare meat which filled him more than he had been in months.

He returned her dishes to her after rinsing them in a stream, belly full, and strangely sated in a way he had not been in ages and he brought her more meat. He wished her well told her he would not return. She had been sad, but he had moved on, knowing that he could not stay in one place again for long. The lovely woman, like DeLacey was blind, and had treated him well, but how would her family react to him skulking about. Agatha and Felix had run him off despite their praise of his work only days before. Then the Creature had taken his revenge. He had killed them all. Four lives lost due to an act of rage stemmed from a hatred and misunderstanding with false hopes and dreams.

Four lives. DeLacey, Felix, Agatha, and the unborn child that Agatha had been carrying, all died and for what? Like Elizabeth, the Creature regretted their deaths, but still felt justified after DeLacey had promised acceptance and the Creature only was beaten, even as his blind friend called his son to stop and cried for the Creature to forgive him. Too late, the Creature had forgiven him. He had forgiven him when his body was ash and dust after the cottage burned with the four inside.

The Creature walked for nearly a week, parallel to a major road. He watched people, cowl drawn up over his head and covering much of his face, even as people passed within meters of him and had no idea he was there, watching them.

He arrived, walking through the mists of the early morn, his gait swirling the low fog about his ankles as he walked through the thick leaves the trees had dropped heralding the coming winter as the autumn chill gripped the air. The Creature cocked his head. He was two now. The body of a man, but he had been on the earth for two years and had learned much about life and humanity.

He came to a sign. He read it. Oñati. He was in the province of Gipuzkoa. The town was small, surrounded on three sides by hills slopping up toward the mountains of the Pyrenees. It was full of life as most Basque towns he had encountered were. These people spoke Spanish which he could understand thanks to DeLacey who had taught him Latin, but they also spoke their own more guttural language among themselves. This was Basque, or so the Creature assumed and he listened, trying to learn the words in the hopes of one day communicating with them.

He smelled smoke on the air.

Not that of a fire that had been stoked in a hearth, but it smelt of something that irritated his nose and something behind it. The acutely sweet scent of rotting flesh was near and in abundance by how strong it was.

The scent of death.

He cocked his head and followed the scent until he came upon a house beside a forested woodland. He blinked. From the scorch marks on the trees the wind had been going down the canyon that the now stood. There was a small river to the west. He had seen it and it maundered about the area. The smoke had blown away from the village making it so that no one would have come.

He looked at the scorched timbers and marks on the whitewash where the flames had licked upwards, reaching higher toward the heavens, destroying everything in heat and hate. He walked closer and saw a large oak tree some meters away from the home. From the thick branches, higher than a normal man, hung a man, who was clearly middle aged, a son nearing twenty, and a boy who looked to be near William's age.

They swung about in the breeze, the rope about their necks had clearly snapped the bones there by how they lulled to the side at odd angles and they looked wretched and cold in the light now that rigor had left their corpses. The scent of human waste was over powering as was the smell of rot. These bodies had been here for at least a couple days if not longer. The Creature stepped closer to the boy. He lifted a hand to his arm and noted the tell-tale bruises that someone had beaten him before death.

He swallowed. He had killed William as painless as he possibly could, snapping his young neck like a chicken to save him the pain of strangulation or worse. This boy's eyes were wide in horror as he looked forever outwards.

What had happened here?

No one deserved to be so. He reached up using the knife he had gotten from Frankenstein when they had been up in the mountains above Ingolstadt, discussing life and the Creature's mate, and he cut the man down. The man fell in a heap of bone, mess, and rotting flesh. He did the same for the two boys and then shifted looking about. Leaving people so was a warning, not Christian. He had read the Bible. People were supposed to be buried with due ceremony and care.

There was a freshly tilled garden with a spade embedded into the corner of the plot. The harvest had come in and they had clearly just turned the soil. It would be easy digging for the morbid task. He moved and began to dig the grave. The day was cool and it was easy work. The grave was shallow, but wide enough for the three of them. He moved, lying them out, side by side in the earth, folding hands over their breasts, and trying to make sure they looked more as if sleeping than dead. He then covered them with the soil he had displaced, mounding it up over them as he fought the urge to vomit at the injustice of it all. No one deserved to be treated so, especially innocents. These people were farmers. What had they possibly done to deserve such torture and death to be beaten and hung like criminals.

He stepped back and said a few words in Latin as he looked at the sad mound. He then shifted to leave, turning, he nearly collided with a girl. He looked at her, stunned a moment. She did not move away from him or scream as she stood, in a simple dress of homespun, covered in dried blood. She regarded him, but there was no malice in her look, just curiosity and a deep set sadness.

She was beautiful and young, though tears had made channels into her cheeks. She was small for even a female, standing only to his chest, but her thick dark hair and clear eyes gave him pause. He shifted back, gauging her reaction as he stepped more into the light, revealing his sutures and grotesque features. There was no disgust, just gratitude reflected in her dark green eyes. They reminded him of the hills of the area.

"Please…" The girl said softly. "Help." She paused. "My momma…she…"

She had spoken in Spanish, but her voice was hoarse as though she had been wailing for hours if not days at the carnage. He shut his eyes. Had she witnessed this? Were these her family? How horrible to watch the butchery of your own family. He swallowed. The poor girl. Even he felt disgust at the idea of her watching everything.

How had she survived? Had she been away? Had she hid? Had she been let go to live with what had happened due to a problem in the recent past? No, this crime, these murders were an act of hate.

He cringed a little. Would this be him if the people could find him and subdue him? A corpse from the end of a rope? Or would they do worse?

He stepped to her and moved to speak, but she promptly turned away from him and walked to a small barn. He followed her, curious about the girl and why she was there. She walked to the back and dropped to her knees beside a bloody mess. Flies buzzed about despite the chill due to the fresh blood and corpse of the woman lying there. The blood had long since clotted and the Creature reached down, touching her arm that had been thrown to the side as though she had fallen back, unable to catch herself, she lay like a macabre marionette without strings.

There was a gaping hole in her middle. He bent closer, feeling bile and then withdrew from the stench. He then looked down at his feet. There was a blood trail leading from her to a post a few meters away. He looked down at the hay at the base of the post. A small human, or what could have been lay there. Blood had run down it and had dried. He bent closer, waving the flies away and then lifted the tiny being in his arms. It fit in the palm of his large hand, tiny limbs hanging to the sides, far too small to be a newborn. This child had not been ready to come out of the womb he realized. It had been taken by force, killing both mother and child through the vast amount of blood loss he had seen.

This was a whole new level of human destruction than he had seen. This baby was innocent of all things and it had been taken from its mother before its time and used for sport. This being was something that he had wanted to be, a young child, with a name, a family, an innocent, to feel love, but he too was broken now. Not like this poor thing, but emotionally. He touched the tiny body with his free hand. It was cold to the touch and not a bone in its body was unbroken. It had been smashed from head to foot, spine to pelvis. The tiny head had even been crushed making it barely recognizable as a human though it had been a tiny female. He sighed. This poor child had suffered much, never to know life, never to know right from wrong, to sin, to know love or even die of old age. It did, however, know hate and pain and that was devastating of all. He looked at the post and again felt bile rise in his throat. It had been smashed against the post as the mother had watched, in horror as her own life ebbed away.

If he ever found who did this, the Creature vowed, he would kill them.

He moved back, following the blood trail back to the woman whose hand the young woman who had asked his help was holding. She was weeping again. The girl's front was crimson with dried blood as though she had desperately tried to save her mother who had likely been dead before she had found her anyway. He closed his eyes.

He was a monster in the eyes of man, but what kind of monsters would so such a thing? It was one thing to execute the men of a home, but it was quite another to torture, rape, and kill a woman and rip the child she bore from her. The kind of monsters these were, were true monsters. The kind who killed for sport or pleasure. The kind who would reanimate a corpse and play God.

He paused. That was a little unfair. He doubted even Frankenstein could stomach this butchery.

He shook his head and then moved, lifting the cold, blood covered body in his arms after placing the tiny being back into the hole in her womb that it had been taken from. His eyes caught the sight of the hay nearby with blood, rope and the hay in the woman's hair made it clear the violence she had endured before she had succumb.

Humans were vicious creatures. They killed as they pleased with no thought to their fellow man.

He moved to the garden, lying the sad corpse down before he dug a fresh grave beside the others, even as it began to rain. He blinked. Even God wept for this mother and child. Once the grave was dug, he laid the woman, who likely had been beautiful before she had lived the hard life of a farmer and borne children to say nothing of the beating she had taken while being raped by who knew how many assailants. There had to be at least three involved to subdue the father and elder brother. Perhaps they had murdered the men and then turned on the lone woman.

He looked back and saw the girl watching him as he continued to cover the grave. It still begged the question how the girl had survived the carnage. Women were the targets of men. The male condition to assert control. The Creature had raped Elizabeth in revenge for what Frankenstein had done, been the first man to be within her and it had been in violence, though he too had been virgin. But these people…what had happened here that such butchery had come to pass?

The girl was shivering with cold as he finished the mound.

She walked forward and dropped to her knees and begun to press bulbs into the earth of the mounds. "Momma loved flowers. She would have loved these. I bought them in the market…" She said, speaking softly and sadly.

The Creature understood her, watching her as she rose to her feet, hands covered in dirt, blood staining her dress and limbs. She was thin and wobbled a little as she moved. He caught her gently by the elbow and noticed she wore a glove on her left hand. She looked at him as she steadied herself. Again there was no malice in her eyes as she lifted a hand to his cheek.

"What did they do to you?" She asked.

He shifted away from the touch, but she was insistent. He finally held still for her as she looked at his face, the sutures, and azure eyes. He locked eyes with her. She seemed to want to know more as she touched the healed scars that still held the stitching.

He blinked and narrowed his eyes, stepping away from her, unused to the kind gentle touch. "Do you have a name child?" He asked slowly in Spanish.

"I am nearly eighteen." She said a little defensively.

"Apologies, Madam…" He said bowing a little sarcastically.

She narrowed her eyes and then swallowed. "Arantzazu." She said.

"Beautiful." He said. "Like the town near here."

"Yes." She cocked her head. "You speak very well."

"Thank you." He said. "But I must go." He turned to leave her, but she caught his arm. He looked at her startled.

"Please. Take me with you."

"The wilds are no place for the likes of you. Go to the town. Be with your people. Your family will care for you."

She looked at him as she blinked a mix of tears and rain from her eyes. "My family is dead, sir. You buried them, bless you." She looked toward the village. "No one will help. The Spanish wanted my family terminated. They served as a warning. The village is in fear."

"But why? What have you done to earn that malice?"

"My father dared to vote against the control of the region." She said simply.

"So they hung your father and brothers, raped your mother, and ripped your sister from her womb because he voted?" He asked. He stepped away blinking. He turned back. "Why were you not killed among them?"

"I was in the forest with the pig getting truffles…my family was a warning against resistance." She looked down. "I am the only one left I have no one." She sighed.

"The wilds are hard."

"There is nothing for me here."

He nodded a little. "Come then." He said. He could at least have a companion, even for a short time. He intended to see her into a village that would take and care for her. She seemed intelligent and she was beautiful even with the slight kink in her nose from a break that did not fully heal properly. Her thick dark hair and olive skin moved him in ways he did not understand.

He moved, walking at his normal pace, satchel over his shoulder as he walked. She trotted to his side and he regarded her. It would not be easy and she would be a social outcast as long as she knew him. Still, he would see no harm came to her and he would care for her. She deserved that much at least. She was a female and men protected their female companions. She had witnessed such atrocities of what man could do to man, she was no doubt as damaged as he was.

She shivered a little, but made no mention of it even though he noticed her arms wrapping about herself. He still could not understand why she looked at him as though she had known him for years even though he was a stranger, a powerful male stranger she knew nothing about, whose ugly visage would likely be her downfall. "Do you have a name?" She asked looking up at him as the rain continued. She paused a moment and he paused with her. "You are clearly an outlander and you have seen much hell, but what are you called?"

He considered that.

Now free of Frankenstein, he could have any name he chose. He could be anyone and live the life as a free man. He would not be nameless anymore and he looked at the gentle face of this woman who did not see him as a monster, but as the man who had helped bring her family to peace.

He swallowed suddenly shy for a moment.

He looked up at the sky as he lifted his head, letting the rain fall on his sutures a moment before he opened his eyes and looked down at her face again. "My name is Adam. Adam Frankenstein."


	4. Angels in Our Midst

On the Edge of the Abyss: The Outcasts: A Shared Life, A Shared Love

Chapter 4 – Angels in Our Midst

_"The ultimate choice for a man, in as much as he is given to transcend himself, is to create or destroy, to love or to hate." Erich Fromm_

Adam, as the Creature now called himself, woke from sleep.

He lay in the bracken of the forest, sheltering under a large treat as a stream nearby babbled soothingly.

He looked about. The girl was near. She had traveled with him for the day and had stayed the night. He could not understand why she had remained. Everyone was repulsed by his appearance, everyone except DeLacey who was blind and Elizabeth who had found him extraordinary. Now this girl had come into his life.

They had walked together until sundown. She had fallen a few meters behind and when he stopped, she had literally collapsed forward. She was cool to the touch when he had dropped down, making sure she yet lived. He had walked a mile to the nearest home and found laundry that had been put on the line to dry after the storms had passed. He had taken a blanket and a dress for her. He returned to find she had not even stirred.

He had wrapped the blanket about her. He had called her Angel, his angel. He gently set her under the tree to keep her safe until he returned. He had caught a hare and cooked it on a small fire. He had gently woken her and pressed a leaf full of water to her parched lips. She had drank as she leaned on his strong arm, her eyes not full of anger or hatred, but trust and understanding. He then broke apart bits of the meat and fed it to her as though she were a small child. She tolerated his gentle caring of her and then rose weakly to her feet. She walked away, into the trees. He watched her, wondering if she were now abandoning him, but she ducked behind a tree.

She returned moments later, her hands wet and cool from the stream as she wrapped the blanket more about her and she laid down. She was exhausted and sleep came quickly. Adam ate his share of the meal, watching her as she curled about herself, trying to stay as warm as possible. Adam had wanted to be near to her, to comfort her as he watched tears drop from her eyes down her cheeks as she remembered the trauma of the day. His poor angel had suffered and he wanted to help her, but he had no idea how. He had never truly learned how to interact with a female or even how to comfort another soul, though he longed for it himself.

He had bedded down near her, but far enough away so he would not scare her if she woke and he was too close for comfort. He had lain awake for a time, watching her. Even with tousled hair, blood stains, and tear tracks on her face, she was still beautiful in the dying light of his small fire.

He vowed then he would protect her. If she wished to return to her people he would allow her to do so, unreservedly, but he also wanted her to stay. He liked having someone near. She had not spoken much after he had said his name. Perhaps she had nothing to speak of, but her voice, even hoarse from weeping was one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard. He wanted more of it, but in good time. When she was ready to speak more, he would be glad of it.

Even now, in the early morning, the girl was hauntingly beautiful. She had long hair that was thick and in every direction. He could see her breathing as she lay on her side, wrapped in the blanket like a large maggot. He reached an arm out and tenderly touched the hair. She did not wake, and instead made a sound, almost of pleasure.

He smiled a little and then moved to go find them some food to eat. The girl needed her strength to keep up with him, though it appeared the day would be warmer and sunny.

He returned to find her poking the coals of the small fire he had had. He smiled and squatted down, placing a few sticks on the coals to catch into flame. He then roasted two squirrels he had caught, gutted, and skinned.

He sat back, watching her as she sat, warming her hands. He had not noticed the chill. After walking near the pole, barefooted and with light clothing, her hardly noticed the cool of the morning. However, she likely was freezing.

He gently lifted a hand and adjusted the blanket about her shoulder in a gentle gesture. She looked at him startled, but accepted the simple kindness before turning back to heat her limbs.

After an hour he served her one of the squirrels. She ate the meat hungrily and he smiled as she ate it off the stick he had adhered it to in order to cook it. She nibbled the flesh from bones, not caring that it was hot. She apparently was hungry. A good sign.

Adam also ate lost in his own thoughts.

After, he put the fire out, dousing it with water. He then lifted the dress. "I have a new dress for you." He said softly.

She looked at him and then the dress. She smiled a little and then rose to her feet, leaving the blanket behind as she moved toward the stream. He watched curiously from where he sat. She reached the bank and then pulled at her dress. She let it drop, pooling at her ankles. Her shift followed and his mouth went dry as he looked at her lovely backside as she stepped into the stream.

Adam knew he should not look or look away, but he could not seem to. He only could stare at her flawless back that ended in her fleshed trim buttocks with her thin legs that walked the ground. She was willow thin and her hair fell to her hip in a thick shroud. She then ducked into the water, finding a relatively deep spot.

She had forgotten the dress he noticed and he moved to the stream's edge, sitting down and watching as she scrubbed her arms almost to the point they were red and bleeding. She then tipped her hair back and washed it, her young pert breasts, tightening and lifting to view out of the water as she leaned backwards. She had the glint, in the new light, of a necklace around her neck.

He watched, captivated by his angel as he waited. Finally, she walked out of the stream, a little down from him, naked, clean, her olive skin dappled from the broken sunlight of the trees still dropping their leaves. He could not look away as she lifted her hands and wrung out her hair before flipping it back and noticing him looking at her. She narrowed her eyes, but made no move to cover herself.

His angel and startlingly beautiful. The cool water had helped her face, but the tear marks remained. He hardly blamed her for that. He would weep also for family if he had any. Instead he was filled with disgust at it all, but he also was thankful the beautiful young woman had not been there. He could imagine finding her still being attacked, over and over by the men who had done this crime of hate until she had nearly expired.

Even then he would have taken her, cared for her, tried to help her live. She would have been broken as he was. She was even now, but for a different sort of reason. She literally had no one. They were alone in the world and he would care for her as much as he was able. His little angel would not suffer if he could help it.

He lifted the new dress sheepishly to her and she took it, pulling it on her body deftly. She then stood, barefoot, watching him as he looked at her. Something caught his eye and he rose to his feet. He walked to her and lifted her left hand. She had taken off the glove she had worn and he lifted it in his large hand, his long fingers encircling the cool wrist.

She looked at him, watching him, as he had watched her for signs of disgust or hatred. Instead, almost instantly, Adam understood her. Her fingers were fused together on her left hand and unusually long for a woman. He looked admired the hand, not with malice, but wonder.

She curled her fingers and then looked at him intently. He then smiled at her and lifted her hand to his face where his facial scars were. This was why she understood him. She knew what it was to be looked at for being different. She touched his face in a soft way, looking at him.

"You are beautiful." He murmured.

She smiled a little. "Not many think so." She nodded to her hand.

"Then they are fools." He said, his clever eyes watching her every move.

She laughed a little, such a lovely sound. She smiled. "You are a good man."

"You do not know me." He said.

"I know you help others. That is good enough for me, Adam."

He smiled turning his head and kissed her wrist near his lips before he smiled, lifting her hand and turned to walk. She followed him. The dress was actually a little large for her slim frame and it hung down off one shoulder revealing the swell of one of her breasts.

They walked together. He kept his pace light, carrying her blanket wrapped about his satchel. She moved in such a graceful fashion. Truly an angel on earth. His angel.

They walked until it was nearly sundown. He paused, smelling something on the wind. He turned his head a little seeing three soldiers off the side of the road, eating and drinking. They had not seen the pair yet.

The girl saw them too as she paused and she made a small gasp. Adam turned his head as she looked at the men palely. Adam narrowed his eyes.

"Who are they?" He asked.

She shook her head and moved to walk away, but he caught her arms and spun her to face him, locking his fingers on her thin arms. She gasped in pain and tried to shake him off, but he refused.

"You are hurting me." She hissed at him softly.

His grip relaxed marginally as he looked down at her intently. His eyes cast toward the soldiers who has still not taken notice of them and were eating and jeering among themselves.

"Who?" He demanded in a growl.

"They killed my family." She said, suddenly icily.

He blinked and let her go. As he did she reached for his side, removing the knife he had sheathed at his hip and walking toward the men with purpose. Adam turned and then noticed where she was going. He moved, coming to her in a couple steps. He grabbed her around the middle, bodily lifting her into the air as his free hand clamped on her mouth as she gave a muffled cry of surprise. He retreated into the trees holding her to him. She struggled, but was no match for his superior strength as he held her off the ground.

"Don't scream." He murmured close to her ear.

She stopped fighting him and let him support her as he pressed his head to hers. He released her face slowly, his large hand remaining at her cheek as they both panted a little.

"They are men. You cannot hope to kill them yourself."

"But my family…" She said.

He looked back over his shoulder. "They will die, just not by your hand."

She looked at him, turning her head. He set her on the earth. "But…"

"They have caused you harm, my angel. I will not allow them to live." He moved and pressed a soft kiss to her brow. "Stay here out of sight."

She looked at him as he moved away.

She crouched down watching as Adam crossed around the men. He then stood a moment, inside the firelight before he attacked. Rage had filled him as he lifted a pistol found lying near a man's bed roll. These men had killed an innocent family, left his angel an orphan, and were now laughing. He listened a moment.

"She was not a good fuck anyway. She was screaming the whole time." The apparent leader said. He was an officer by his uniform. Adam's eyes narrowed.

"We should have just cut her throat." One of the men said. "No need to remove the spawn from her."

"Taught them a lesson of whom they are dealing with." The leader said.

"The girl wasn't there."

"We will find her and I will marry the useless whore." The officer said. "She was promised to me and then refused. Her father allowed her to do so."

"Could you not marry another?" A man asked.

"She is beautiful and I can control the region through her. Her father was the leader of the resistance. With the emblem at my side, carrying my seed in her belly, no one would dare rebel against Spain in this region. She will bring my children into the world making a connection to the lands here."

Adam had heard enough. These men had sealed their fates as he lifted the pistol and fired, at remarkably close range into one of the men's heads. The men were so shocked by this he was able to grab the next and snap his neck before he even realized what had happened.

The officer was on his feet, sword drawn as Adam regarded him coldly, his azure eyes full of fury. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Your worst nightmare." Adam growled. He moved forward and the officer slashed. Adam caught the blade with his hand, wincing a little as it cut him and then snapped the blade with shocking ease. The officer's eyes widened as Adam cast the sword to the side and then gripped the man's throat, pulling the officer to him. "You murdered the innocent, raped a woman, killed an unborn child. What kind of monster are you?" Adam growled, his words, venom.

The officer's eyes widened as Adam squeezed his throat a little.

"Give me one reason why I should allow you to live?" Adam growled, putting his face near the man's to allow him to see the angry grotesque visage.

"I…I…"

"Let him go or this little house mouse dies."

Adam's head wiped about to a fourth man, the guard, holding his angel to him, a knife to her neck. He cursed himself for a moment at his idiocy. He had not checked for a perimeter guard.

Now she was in danger and it was his fault. She looked at him, a strange cross between fear and hatred in her eyes at being held. Adam looked back at the officer and shut his eyes a moment. He would do anything to keep his angel safe.

The officer smirked a little. "Well, well. There she is. My dear betrothed. We were just speaking about you." He said.

She narrowed her eyes. "I would never marry you. You killed my family. I hope there is a special place in hell for what you did to my mother and sister you coward." She spat, but the blade nicked her flawless flesh and she yelped a little.

Seeing the blood well made Adam close his eyes. Seeing pain in her eyes, different from what he had seen before, made him want to comfort her. He needed to make sure she lived and was free. Through her, he could right wrongs. If she died, her blood, like Elizabeth would be on his hands, staining them forever.

He was about to step back when a howl of pain made his head snap around again. The girl was holding her neck where the knife had bit into it, but not seriously, but the man had Adam's knife embedded in his thigh where she had stabbed downwards, severing an artery. The blood gushed and spurted as the man fell.

Adam was stunned as the girl stood over the guard. He looked back at the officer whose smug face had turned back to a shade of pale. Adam released him a moment and the man dropped to the ground, sobbing for air and rolling onto his hands and knees as Adam withdrew the knife viciously from the other man's thigh.

The man kicked and reached to try to stem the blood in a vain effort to stem the blood. Adam knew he would be dead in moments and moved to the officer who lifted a hand toward him as Adam squatted down before him.

"Please…mercy. Leave me alone. I will leave you be." The officer coward back. "I will leave you alone monster. You can have her."

Adam's eyes narrowed. "Did the woman beg for mercy?" He asked. "Did she beg for you to stop? Did she beg for mercy as you ripped her child from her womb?" His voice grew angrier as he reached forward and took hold of the man's throat. "Did the boy cry out for mercy before you snapped his neck?" He growled lifting him to his feet against the tree. "I am not the monster. You are." He slashed feeling the warm heat of blood on his hand as he cut deep into the man's throat over his hand on his lower windpipe.

The man gurgled in shock and Adam let him drop down as he cough and died, blood blooming on his lips as he tried to speak.

The girl touched Adam's arm with her hand. "Are you all right?" She asked. She had seen the blood on his hands. Most of it was not his own. He had two one deep cut on each hand from clasping the saber and breaking it with the sheer force and strength he possessed. It stung, but he would live. After all he had loved through worse with the sutures he had all over his body.

"Yes." He said looking at her. He lifted a hand to her neck. "You are wounded."

She shook her head. "It is nothing. Come we need to find shelter. There is a storm coming."

He wondered how she knew that. He allowed her to lead him deeper into the forest. His own hands were cut, but they would heal. He was starting to feel the sting as his adrenaline ebbed. He followed her, but she was slowing down.

She turned to him and shifted ripping the petticoat of her dress and wrapping them around his injured hands. He watched, allowing her to do so. She was such a caring soul, thinking of others before herself. She was pale, however, he could see in the low light from the moon.

She blinked a little and turned from him then. "We need to continue…" She said.

He gently touched her shoulder as she paused, head drooping a little. "Angel?" He asked.

"I…I'm just tired." She said. She took a step and wobbled a little and then fell to the side as her knees gave out from under her. Adam caught her to him. Her head lolled back like a doll over his arm as he lifted her in his arms. She looked so small and pale in his arms. The adrenaline she had felt had also left her body and she now was limp. Worried, he tenderly touched her throat away from the small cut that was starting to clot. She lived, her heartbeat steady, but a little fast for his liking.

He looked closer at the wound, dipping his fingers into her warm clotting lifeblood to check. It was shallow and small. She was right it was not serious, but it was not helping her any to have blood loss after the tribulations of the last two days. He wondered if she had eaten at all when she was with her dead family or if the hare had been her first meal in days.

She needed more nourishment to help her recover. He tenderly wrapped the blanket, which he removed from his satchel, around her frail body and held her close to him like a small child. She had fainted.

He would see her well. He blinked feeling a sudden gust from the north off the mountains. He shivered a little at the suddenness and realized he needed to find a place to keep her safe very soon. She would need warmth, food, and shelter if he was to heal her.

She was his angel and he was learning from past mistakes. His mate would never be without him again. He would see to her and unharmed. He would allow her to join her people if she wished, but he truly cared.

Was this love?

It felt differently than the love he had for Frankenstein, the twisted love he had for his creator that he felt deeply and it was not returned. In fact it was met with malice, hatred, and a will to destroy the one creature on the planet who loved him. Elizabeth had loved him, but Frankenstein himself seemed to have no concept of what the emotion truly was.

This love was different. It felt different and seemed to tuck at his heart more than nearly loosing Frankenstein on the ice. He could not think about life without his Angel now. She had accept him and wanted to be with him. Perhaps she loved him in return?

He longed for that. To belong, to feel love, to have a mate, and to be happy. Happy. Another emotion he had never felt before, but when he looked upon her face, his heart sang and felt free. It fluttered in a curious way.

Love, hope, redemption…

Was this Adam's redemption? To love this young girl, to have her as his mate. She was not one of his own kind, but she seemed to care for him at least somewhat in how she bound his hands and spoke to him.

She too was alone in the world.

They would make a life together and be happy in the existence they could manage. He had avenged her family and now she would be his to look after, love, care for, and be with. He sighed pressing a kiss to the cool brow.

"Sleep, my angel. Sleep and recover. I am here. You are safe." He told her, his lips to her ear.

"Adam." Came the soft voice, like a prayer on her sleepy lips.

He smiled a little and hugged her closer to his body as the breeze picked up more. She was never going to suffer again. Never. He would right the wrongs he had done with Elizabeth, William, and DeLacey with her. He would prove to God that he was worthy of existence as any other creature on the blanket and prove he was worthy of the mate whom he had discovered.


End file.
